


Strafe Your Daughter's Birthday Party

by eruthiel



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Divorce, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Happy Ending, MJN Air Is A Family, Paternal Douglas, Pre-Canon, Pre-Martin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 08:32:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3113123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eruthiel/pseuds/eruthiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Are they fighting? Why are they fighting? Are they... are they fighting about Arthur?</p><p>In which Carolyn hires a new pilot, Douglas raises objections, and Arthur makes everything better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strafe Your Daughter's Birthday Party

**Author's Note:**

> Martin is only captain (as opposed to FO) because he agreed to do it for free, and Douglas didn't know that until _Gdansk_ , so god knows how Carolyn explained it to him. This is a small expression of my powerful feelings about Arthur as a child of divorce, Douglas as his primary father figure, and (though it doesn't really come across in Arthur's POV, hence the title) Arthur as an unwitting surrogate for Douglas' daughter(s). I hope you like it!

Arthur knows something is wrong before he even opens the office door. There are raised voices inside, angry voices. Arthur hovers on the step, anxiety twisting his insides. He can't imagine what's wrong – Mum and Douglas were being perfectly nice when they left him to hoover the plane. Or perfectly normal, anyway. Now they're shouting over each other and sounding really very cross, not like one of their usual disagreements.

Are they fighting? Why are they fighting? Are they... are they fighting about Arthur? He must have done something wrong. He thinks about sneaking out of bed when he was a kid. He thinks about sitting on the stairs, hugging his bear tight to his chest, listening to the war raging in the kitchen.

And then he thinks about sneaking back onto GERTI until the fight's over. Arthur would stay and help them sort it out if he could, but this... this is giving him such a bad feeling in his stomach. So very bad. He realises he can't wait outside, knowing that they're still fighting, when he could probably fix it by just going in and apologising for whatever it is he's done.

Arthur takes a deep breath and shoves down on the handle. The shouting stops as he pushes open the door and peers inside. "Mum? Douglas? What's the matter?" 

They're standing to face each other across Mum's desk. Mum starts to say something but instead Douglas growls, "Go away, Arthur. Your mother and I have a problem to thrash out."

"The only problem we have is a stroppy _first officer_ with delusions of grandeur," says Mum, and Arthur wonders why she said it like that, and why Douglas looks so angry about it. "Come in and get the tea on, Arthur. We're nearly finished talking about it, anyway."

"We are not anywhere near done talking about it!" Douglas smashes a hand down on the desk and Arthur jumps back a bit without meaning to. "Carolyn, if I go and you're left with this – this useless little prick you've hired –"

"Then I'd just hire another one to replace you. But I won't need to do that, of course, because you're not going anywhere."

"I'll do it, Carolyn, don't think I won't. Why would I stay with your bad joke of company after this?"

Mum squares her shoulders and Arthur can tell she's really angry now. He wishes he'd gone back to the plane, but he's rooted to the spot while she snaps, "Well, why haven't you already left, then, Douglas? Could it be because you need this bad joke much more than we need you? Because I'd like to see the kind of joke company that will hire a thieving layabout without a recommendation from either of his previous employers!"

Douglas throws his hands in the air. "I don't need this. I don't need you. I'm going." He snatches up his jacket and moves to the door. He doesn't even look at Arthur, who hurries to get out of his way.

"Good luck!" Mum shouts after Douglas' retreating back. "See you tomorrow for your grovelling apology!" The door slams before she's finished speaking, so she yells even louder to make sure Douglas hears her.

After a few seconds of silence, Arthur rushes to the kettle and starts filling it up with shaking hands. Mum steps over to him, her voice suddenly much softer and kinder. "Arthur, I'm so sorry you had to see that. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Arthur squeaks. He hears Mum sigh. "Completely, totally fine. Why – why are – what's the matter?"

It takes her a while to answer. "Look, Arthur, it's not a big deal. You know that I've been looking for a new pilot, now that Nigel's too old to keep flying with us."

Arthur nods. He loves Nigel – the oldest and wrinkliest and cleverest man Arthur's ever met, never mind seen flying a plane. Arthur misses his long stories and strange sayings already. But he always said that Arthur and Douglas would be the death of him, so Arthur's glad he's retiring before that has a chance to come true.

"Well," Mum says, "I've found someone. His name is Martin Crieff and he starts next week."

"Oh, brilliant!" In his excitement, Arthur forgets about the row for a second. Then his face falls again. "So what's the matter? Is Douglas angry about Nigel leaving?"

"No, not as such. No. I think what he's angry about is the fact that Mr Crieff is going to be our new captain."

This has Arthur lost. "But... Nigel was the captain. So if you're replacing him, you need a new captain, right?"

"Actually, I think Douglas was under the impression that _he_ would be the new captain."

"Oh."

"And now he's throwing a tantrum because I won't let him be."

"Then why don't you? He's really good. And if he cares about it so much..."

Mum doesn't look cross at all any more, only sad and confused. "I... it's not that simple, Arthur. If I turn around and tell Mr Crieff he has to be the first officer after all, he won't take the job."

The kettle boils. Arthur thinks about the situation while mixing up the tea. Then an idea strikes him. "I know! Why don't you let them take it in turns to be captain?"

"Arthur, my darling bright spark, even if that were possible, I don't think Douglas would find it any more agreeable."

Arthur heaps the last spoonful of sugar into his tea, swirls it, and looks down at the little brown whirlpool spinning in his mug. He can't think of anything else to suggest, so he takes his tea and sits down at Mum's desk. Mum joins him and they sit there for a while, all their usual chatter stifled to nothing.

Eventually, Arthur asks in a small voice, "Why _does_ Douglas care so much, Mum?"

"Because he's an arrogant, entitled old fool who thinks he's still at Air England."

"No, I don't... I'm on your side, Mum, obviously, but he's not any of that. Douglas is brilliant."

Mum gives him a look. Not a bad look, but not a good one either. "You're too generous for your own good sometimes, Arthur. But yes, I may have been a little harsh." She sips her tea. "I suppose he cares because it's humiliating to go back to being a first officer, after all the time he spent bossing them around in his old job."

"But he's been Nigel's first officer for years. What's so different about this?"

"He got his hopes up. And it doesn't help that Mr Crieff is very young – not much older than you, in fact."

"Wow!" Arthur is almost as old as a pilot – a captain! "I don't understand, though, why does that matter?"

But Mum looks tired and distant and Arthur realises her side of the conversation is over. Part of him is glad, because his next question was going to be about Douglas leaving, and Arthur doesn't think he could face the answer.

* * *

Douglas' car is half an hour late the next morning. Douglas himself is even later, because instead of coming in, he sits in his car for ten minutes until Mum sends Arthur out to fetch him.

Holding back his nerves, Arthur taps on the driver's side window. Inside he can see Douglas frowning as he rolls the window down. "Good morning, Arthur."

"Hi, Douglas!" Arthur hopes Douglas can't hear the tremble in his voice. "Mum says what are you doing out here, and when are you going to come in and get it over with, you great lummox."

"Does she, indeed."

"Yep."

Douglas is silent for a long time. Arthur's never seen him like this. At last Douglas gestures to him and says, "Can we have a little talk, Arthur? Man to man?"

"I-I suppose so."

"Hop in, then."

Arthur dashes round to the passenger side and lets himself in. He's never been in Douglas' car before. It's beautiful, almost as nice as Mum's, but without the lovely dog smell. "Wow," says Arthur, "thanks, Douglas."

The frown on Douglas' face has softened now, and Arthur doesn't feel quite so afraid. "I'm... sorry, Arthur, about last night. I shouldn't have been so rude to you. I'm just... upset."

"That's okay." Arthur smiles. "Mum explained everything after you left. About the new captain who's younger than you." Douglas winces, and Arthur rushes to correct himself. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... I don't understand, why does it matter how old he is?"

"It's not all about that, you know, there are other factors. But, well – how would you feel if a little boy started telling you what to do?"

Arthur considers. "How little is the boy?"

"Oh, I don't know – ten."

After further consideration, Arthur says, "I think it would depend on what the boy was like, and also what he told me to do. Anyway, the new captain's not a little boy. Mum said he was a few years older than me."

"Right, well, how do you think I'd react if _you_ started telling me what to do?"

"I don't know..."

"Think about it, Arthur, I'm old enough to be your father."

"But you're not my dad! You're nothing like my dad!"

Douglas looks a little taken aback by Arthur's outburst. "Okay, well, how do you think your _dad_ would react if you started telling _him_ what to do?"

It's like a stone has been dropped on Arthur's stomach. He looks from Douglas' grave expression down to his own hands. "Oh. I-I don't think he'd be very pleased."

"No."

"But that's different too, y'see, Douglas – I'm just a steward, but the new captain, he's a captain!"

"That's the whole problem," Douglas reminds him. He pauses. "I don't suppose Carolyn told you _why_ she made this chap captain, did she?"

"She said it was complicated."

Douglas groans. "Of course she did." He rests his elbows on the steering wheel and puts his face in his hands.

Reaching out in concern, Arthur begs, "Don't be sad, Douglas. The new guy's probably really nice! He'll be part of the family in no time if you just give him a chance." Douglas makes no response and a note of panic creeps into Arthur's voice. "Please? Just wait and see, it won't be that bad. You're already brilliant at being a first officer!"

"What?" One bloodshot brown eye peeks out from behind Douglas' fingers.

"Well, Nigel once told me that Mum was keeping us both in a state of Perfectual Idol-Essence."

The corner of a smile follows. "Did he really? I think he probably meant to say perpetual adolescence."

"Right, yeah. And what he meant was, because we both have people telling us what to do all the time, we don't take things as seriously! He said it's more fun being first officer because you can mess around and play games, and you know the captain will take responsibility if something goes wrong!"

Douglas has fully emerged from behind his hands now. "Are you saying I wouldn't be fun if I were a captain?"

"No, I just... I'm sure you would, but..."

"Because if you're worried, Arthur, know that there is no rank anyone could offer me that would stop us playing Passenger Derby or Travelling Lemon."

A moment of perfect happiness, like a hot bath in his soul, spreads through Arthur. He grins and giggles and then grins some more, and Douglas is smiling back at him. They're having a nice talk, _man to man_. Arthur wants to go for a drive and play some Yellow Car and make this last all day.

Then he remembers that Mum is still waiting in the office. That makes him remember last night, the look on Douglas' face when he turned around and said _your mother and I_. The horrible shouting. _Thieving layabout._ His bear clutched to his chest.

Before he can stop himself, Arthur says, "You're not leaving, are you, Douglas?"

The answer takes too long in coming. More words spill out of Arthur's mouth as he stares down at his own lap. "I'm sorry, I know it's selfish of me, but I don't want you to leave. Because it's already bad enough that Nigel's going, but that's not too bad because he's only going because he's old, not because he hates us. If you hated us, I – if you left Mum and me and then we never saw you again..."

Arthur feels a strong hand on his shoulder. "Arthur. Calm down. I'm not going anywhere."

"You're not? Promise?"

A long pause, then: "Yes, actually. I promise. Scout's honour."

"Even if you don't get to be captain?"

"That looks increasingly inevitable, yes."

"And you'll give the new captain a chance?"

"All right. But he'd better be pretty bloody terrific after all the trouble he's caused."

"And you'll stop fighting with Mum?"

"Never." Arthur looks up with brimming eyes and Douglas pats his shoulder playfully. "But no more shouting and nastiness."

Arthur lets out a ragged breath of relief and slumps back in his seat. "You're the best, Douglas."

"Normally I would have to agree, but after yesterday, I can't help but question your basis for comparison."

"Huh?"

Douglas stares at Arthur for a second before saying, "Never mind. Carolyn must be getting quite impatient in there by now, don't you think?"

"Oh gosh, yes. She's still quite cross from yesterday."

"Ah. Well, I'll have to face her sooner or later..."

Hopefully, Arthur prompts, "You're going to tell her you're not leaving?"

Douglas nods. "I think after all the promises I just made, that would be a good start. You can wait here if you'd rather not get involved this time."

The idea of being left alone in a nice car like this is at once baffling and exciting. Arthur shakes his head in regret. "Thanks, Douglas, but I'd rather keep an eye on you both, if you don't mind."

When Douglas laughs, Arthur laughs along too because he's happy. And Douglas looks sort-of happy now, or at least less unhappy than he was when Arthur came out to talk to him. "Come on, then," says Douglas, opening his door, "let's get back in there."

Leaping out with a cheer, Arthur waits for Douglas to lock the car, then bounds after him across the car park towards the office. He always thought that if he could just say the right thing, everything would be all right. And for the first time, it seems to have worked.


End file.
